


A Wandering Heart's Spark

by PapaKapkan



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Love, M/M, Multi, angsty, but also ?, fantasy?, idk - Freeform, ish?, not rlly?, sort of an au?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 04:42:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14277150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PapaKapkan/pseuds/PapaKapkan
Summary: A wandering heart cannot be tamed, or so one can think. But everyone has to return home eventually, right?





	A Wandering Heart's Spark

_Magnus:_  
It is a lovely day out. I had just relaxed in my office, the smell of my coffee brewing and the window open while I am perched next to it, feet propped up in the windowsill and a cigarette lit. The smoke filtered out of the open window gracefully. The harsh scent of the cigarette was softened by the scent of the coffee brewing nearby. My office is one of the things that follows me wherever I go. It just kind of forms in this world, and people just know what it is. Dr. Rye Petrova called me a week ago. It always begins with something of her discovery, doesn’t it? But then again, she is the reason I get the cases I do now. We can never go home, but we can fix what is wrong in other dimensions. She said these strange men in white masks have been popping in and out of several dimensions. She claims that they have set up base nearby, and that they may or may not have a hostage. She said she would call again in a week if she found any confirmation. I know by now she may have found it. I am just sitting around waiting for the call.

My cell phone begins to ring. It’s an older model, an iPhone 8 Plus, its vintage. Four hundred years ago, this would have been the fresh new hit for a ton of teenagers. The original company fell four hundred years ago when its originating country became the Wasteland. It’s nothing but a radioactive hell. Just dust, rubble, and terrifying creatures. It was mostly contained to that one part of the world. No other place in the world suffered like that. But, it is what it is. Nobody even really knows why they nuked their own country four hundred years ago, but at the same time, some wars sparked on the other side of the ocean. At least in my world, it happened like that. It is 2018 in this dimension, almost four and a half centuries before any of that happened in my world. Well before I was born. I look at the caller ID on my cell phone, “Petrova.” Looks like this is the call.

“Detective Jensen, speaking, what’s the case?” I answer out of habit, knowing full well who she is and what she may have to tell me.

“Ok, so I found out more on that hostage that the masked men may have in that old warehouse down the road, his name is Shuhrat Kessikbayev. He is a soldier for an old school Russian anti terrorist unit called “Spetsnaz.” Well, for them it isn’t old school.” She speaks fast, almost out of breath. The Russian woman’s accent thick as she tries to get the words out faster.

“What is the point? Why is he so important, Petrova.” I say, a little sharper than I had intended.

“He is a part of something much, much bigger. He is an expert, an elite trained soldier amongst a group called “Team Rainbow,” they were gathered together from around the world to fight these men in the masks, they are not to be reckoned with. That is, in their dimension, they don’t know what’s up here. Nor do they have the tech we do.” She says, sounding absolutely proud of herself for finding this kind of information, and I do have to say, I am impressed. So I may have to go after him anyways, a high value target like that may be important to return to his homeworld.

“What should I go in with, you seem to have been doing your homework.” I ask, pushing the end of the cigarette into the ashtray in the window sill, I stand up as well to move towards my coffee maker. I need at least one cup of coffee before I attempt to retrieve the man from this team Rainbow.

“Bring your rifle, they will most likely not expect anyone to barge in there, so if you keep on the down low, you should be able to get in and out just fine. Just don’t be seen!” Petrova stresses out the last sentence loudly. I hear her hang up on me, signalling me to get to it. I take sip of the hot drink in my hands. I almost wish he wasn’t a high value target so that I wouldn’t have to deal with this. As much as I love anything to do with stealth, I feel exhausted today. I chug the coffee quickly and make my way to the supply box on the other side of my office where I have my old rifle, it was once just a regular hunting rifle, but my old friend Elizabeth Waller made it so that it basically uses energy to shoot and it shoots a light that pierces almost anything, it gets to hot enough temperatures it can turn a person to ashes at close range and make holes in metal walls.. It makes no sound, and it is the perfect piece of equipment for a stealth mission as such, good for close range or long range. Although aiming it at longer ranges can get difficult, yeah it hits the same spot, but the damage it does is not as powerful as within closer ranges. If far enough away, the energy itself will just vaporize into nothing again.

The best design about this rifle is that it is about the size of an old fashioned shotgun, one of those ridiculously small ones that seem useless as fuck. One of my buddies always said, “why is it called a rifle, it’s basically just an overpowered pistol now, you made it half the size, Waller!” It was always amusing to hear them argue about it. Elizabeth always decided to call it the “compact rifle.” But Adrien was right, it can just be a large pistol.

 _Shuhrat:_  
I heard someone cry out in pain not far from me, and I saw some dust moving around as a light flashed for just a second. I didn’t hear anything else, however. I assumed it was just the terrorists messing around again with their gear. I could feel the pain in my chest from the broken ribs, that will take awhile to recover from. Then there is my broken, dislocated at best, shoulder. My ankle is probably fractured. I try and scoot the chair again as best I can with my broken body and I hear more shuffling and see another flash of light. Someone in a long coat and what looks like a sidearm shotgun in his hands walks into the room. His face is stern, his sharp green eyes scan the room before landing on me, stubble adorns his chin and his long hair is in a braid over his shoulder, similar to how Ash does hers. A fedora sits atop his dark blond hair, under his coat is a blue toned flannel and he can see clearly a grey t-shirt, but it may be a tank top based on the material. He wears black skinny jeans and bright red converse-like shoes on his feet. He strides across the room confidently. I think I just fell in love, this crazy handsome guy, wait… I just need to calm down for a second. The first possible ally I’ve seen in a month, and I am already losing my shit. Breathe.

“Well, look at you, don’t you look like absolute shit!” the man laughs, I feel myself gape in horror at his attitude. I try to speak but my throat is dry, he doesn’t seem to notice as he begins to untie me, he just continues speaking.

“Anyways, you’re lucky Petrova told me these buggers had a hostage, I would have never come here to deal with this if it hadn't have been for that. I now have to escort you back to your homeworld, where Petrova is waiting at you HQ, or some shit. She just told me to head for Herefordshire. I don’t even know where that is at, sounds like its in England though. I grew up in England but it isn’t the same where I come from.” He had begun rambling as he gently lifted me up, supporting most of my weight, and noting which side was the injured one and kept the weight off that ankle. I could barely think straight, this man, about four inches shorter than me, and much scrawnier, was supporting me like I was some damsel in distress. I feel like if my ribs weren’t broken he may have just carried me bridal style out of here, much to my displeasure and excitement. Wait what. No, I take that back. I hear the strangely handsome, oh stop that, Shuhrat! I hear the strange man chuckle at me, almost as if he can get my thoughts.

“You ok there, you look like you’re struggling in there.” All I can do is nod, even though what I want to say is “no, you need to stop giving me that sly smile and get that gentle look out of your eyes, please.” It takes every ounce of my strength to not pass out again. The man pulls out a cell phone and dials a number. The person he is calling answers quick.

“Oi, Petrova, set your device to your location, I am just going to teleport to you, got it? I have the hostage, he is pretty fucked up, several broken bones and minor head trauma it looks like, he was pretty battered. How long was this fucker in there?” he says, his harsh words clearly not registering in his brain. When did I get hit on the head? I don’t remem- oh- when they originally knocked me out, I took a rifle but to the head. He pulls up the sleeve on his coat to reveal some device set on his wrist. He presses a few buttons and latches on to me again.

I feel everything become light and airy. I feel almost as if I don’t exist. Everything feels cold and empty. After a few moments and the strange man whispering something in Russian which barely registers in my own hearing, not loud enough for me to understand, everything became bright again. And the first thing I saw was Doc, which thank goodness, that is the most blessed thing I have seen in a month. Doc gently takes me from the man, which he then thanks, and Ash walks up as Doc takes me away, the woman who Doc and the man called Petrova follows too. Ash starts talking to the strange man and I can barely pull my eyes away from his grin and relaxed posture.

I hope to never see him again. He is just too much.


End file.
